Mission: V-Day
by kateafur
Summary: Max and Logan spend Valentine's Day together.


Title: Mission: V-Day  
Author: kateafur  
Rating: PG-13  
Archive: Ask me first, please.  
Summary: Valentine's Day fluff. Max and Logan spend the holiday together.  
Spoilers: Takes place sometime after Blah Blah Woof Woof, nothing major.  
Notes: This is my first DA fic so I'd appreciate any constructive criticism!   
Special thanks to Erin and Cara for the beta!  
Disclaimer: Just borrowing 'em.   
  
  
If I ever see the color red, or any variation of the shade, again, I'll be sick.   
So many runs today, even my legs ache. My genetically enhanced, super-assassin   
calves are throbbing. I can only imagine how the other riders feel.   
  
I suppose it was worth it. Seeing the faces of women across the city light up   
because their honeys remembered them on this contrived consumer holiday,   
Valentine's Day. It made Normal's 'bip'ing' almost tolerable. At least the bike   
delivery service isn't alone on this day of love. I feel for the florists, who   
had lines clear down the block, and the card shops just brimming with saps   
scouring for the right card.  
  
During one of my many runs, I noticed this poor cutie pleading with a vendor to   
knock the price down on a gold heart pendant. His girl would kill him if she   
didn't get it, he claimed. So, while the vendor was busy arguing with the guy, I   
ganked an identical one. The frigid bastard never even missed it. Hotstuff   
noticed, followed me around the corner, and is hopefully making his shortie very   
happy right now. I even refused to accept money for my trouble. What can I say?   
The world would sorely miss a brother with chocolate brown, bedroom eyes like   
his.   
  
Thank whatever power's spinning this world that I don't have to deal with   
Valentine's Day.  
  
Oh, shit.   
  
I do.  
  
How did I space this one? I've only been droolin' over Logan since I met him. I   
know he feels the same about me. We've even kissed. Twice.   
  
Yes, we've kissed twice. The first time was in an emotional moment, when I   
thought I'd have to say good-bye to him forever. The kiss was brief but   
passionate. The connection was unreal. At that moment in time, every gene in my   
body ached for him. The loss I felt after we parted made me realize exactly how   
much I've strayed from my Manticore teachings. With no regard for the   
consequences, I'd fallen victim to the very phony sentimentality I'd been warned   
against. No matter what the future was going to hold, I knew at that moment how   
I felt about Logan, my friends, and my adopted home, Seattle would factor into   
my life. I had developed a weakness.   
  
Where our first kiss sent me into a storm of emotions about my life, the second   
one served to calm them. Logan and I had spent an evening sharing food, wine,   
and stories. We laughed into the wee hours of the morning, when the sun began to   
rise and cast orange and pink colors across the blue-gray sky. Finally, I moved   
to leave, sensing Logan was getting tired. In those calm minutes of the dawn,   
when the world was silent and asleep in the streets of Seattle below, Logan   
grabbed my hand, and for an eternity, we too were still. I sat on the couch,   
level with Logan in his chair, and stared deeply into his eyes, an amazing blue-  
gray that matched the daybreak sky. Our hands rested, clasped together, on the   
arm of the couch between us. Together we leaned in, our lips meeting halfway.   
Again, I felt the kiss throughout my entire body. The tips of my toes were alive   
as we slowly moved our lips, taking our time to discover this new sensation. All   
too quickly, the kiss ended. I still felt the loss of Logan when we parted, but   
soon the feeling of promise took over. After all, this could easily, and   
hopefully, happen again. Nothing else was said that night. I think we both had   
silly smiles on our faces as I walked out the door.   
  
That was a week ago. There have been no smooches since. But not for lack of   
wanting. Seems that fate has conspired against us for the time being. I haven't   
even been to Logan's for anything but business these past few days.   
  
Logan did, however, mention Valentine's Day. Which leads me back to my original   
problem.  
  
What the hell am I supposed to do for this commercialized holiday?  
  
I can't say I've ever been in this situation before. My relationship track   
record has more potholes than South Market. I know I've never felt this   
sentimental feeling towards anyone else before. I gotta play this day right.  
  
So, what's it gonna be? I think guys got the market on the flower gesture.   
Ditto for chocolates. A card requires way too many questions. And Kendra would   
not appreciate being asked to cook something in my name on tonight of all   
nights.   
  
I rack my brain, trying to come up with the perfect gift for the occasion. No   
doubt Logan will have something nice waiting for me. We're at that awkward point   
in our blooming relationship. We both realize the intensity of the sparks that   
fly between us and know this -whatever- is something real. We've just never   
directly acknowledged it. What's a girl to do?  
  
Kendra would probably suggest something lacy and easily removed, but it's just a   
little too soon in the game, if you ask me. Ditto for Original Cindy. My   
homegirls' got quite the gutter brains. Doesn't help they think Logan and I have   
been hittin' it all along.   
  
Come on, Max, think. Key to flawless battle planning: know your mission. Okay,   
find the perfect gift for Logan which will acknowledge how I feel about him   
without being too sappy or too serious. Keeping my eyes open, recording every   
detail, I zero in on a card shop, exploding with Valentine cheer. Subject   
sighted. Begin mission V-Day at once.  
  
3 3 3  
  
The shop is small, made even smaller by the masses of people streaming in and   
out, searching for anything with a heart on it. I bypass the tall racks of   
cards, the shades of pink, red, and white that decorate them will send me over   
the edge if I stare too long. Maybe if I had more time I'd be able to pick out a   
decent card, but with only two hours until I'm expected at Logan's, I better   
blaze through this mission.  
  
It amazes me how people can be so short on cash they'll have to use the same   
soap to wash their hair, brush their teeth, do their laundry, and clean their   
dishes yet they'll drop a wad on some silly $20 picture frame with glittery pink   
hearts all over it. Strange.   
  
After searching the entire store and coming up empty handed, something catches   
my eye. I see a fluffy brown teddy bear perched on a shelf, abandoned for a box   
of chocolates, apparently. Instinct tells me to check it out even though I   
already dismissed the rack of smiling animals holding objects declaring 'I Love   
You Beary Much' or 'Hug Me.' This cute little bear looks inviting. His sandy   
brown fur is soft and his black bead eyes stare up at me with a pleading look.   
He holds a little red heart in his left paw which reads 'Be Mine.' It's simple,   
cute, a little mushy. It could work. Besides, the bear reminds me of Logan in   
some bent way.   
  
Ok, call Manticore, I've gone completely sentimental.  
  
Further searching turns up nothing else, so I decide on the bear. Logan'll get a   
laugh out of it at the very least. I add a box of those sugar conversation   
hearts to my purchase and book it out of the store.   
  
3 3 3  
  
I take extra time picking out my threads. After trying on my entire meager   
wardrobe, I decide on a pair of black drawstring pants and a red turtleneck   
sweater. The sweater ends about an inch short of the pants, showing off some   
skin, which I'm sure Logan will appreciate. I pile my hair on top of my head,   
letting a few curls frame my face. The turtleneck , thankfully, hides my   
barcode. I add some red lip gloss and am ready to blaze. I hope Logan likes   
what he sees. I know I'm wishin' he'll be sporting one of his sexy button down   
shirts. I start to smile just thinking about it. Ladies and gentlemen, I think   
I've been infected with the love bug. Let's hope it's contagious.   
  
3 3 3  
  
I stand nervously in front of Logan's door, unsure what to do. Do I knock? Break   
in as usual? I shift my backpack on my shoulder. I made a detour to the gourmet   
coffee shop on the way over. I would've been a good girl and stood in line with   
all the other schmucks and bought it. But, seriously, when they leave the back   
door unlocked, what's a girl supposed to do? I ain't gonna spend my hard earned   
dough on some measly coffee when I can get it for free, that's for sure.   
  
After waiting another minute and deciding telepathy will not get Logan to open   
the door, I decide to pick the lock. As I enter the apartment, the heavenly   
smell of steak assaults my nose and my stomach rumbles in response. Logan, you   
are a god.   
  
"Logan!" I call out, automatically heading towards his computer room. I drop my   
bag in the hall, deciding to scope out what Logan's got up his sleeve before   
playin' Santa.   
  
"In here, Max." I stop in my tracks, determining Logan's voice came from the   
dining room, not the computer room. Just before I reach my new destination,   
Logan intercepts me. I notice, to my satisfaction, he's sportin' a bright sky   
blue button down shirt. It makes the shades of deep blue in his eyes sparkle as   
he rakes them over my form. My knees go weak. When his eyes once again meet   
mine, he says in that sexy rasp of his, "Close your eyes."  
  
How can I argue with that? I slide my eyes shut, my senses automatically   
heighten thanks to my Manticore teachings. I surpress a shiver as his warm hand   
clasps mine, his thumb gently caressing my palm. We slowly make our way into the   
dining room.   
  
"Wait here, no peeking!" Logan commands as he wheels away, leaving me stranded.   
The smell of steak is stronger in here, mixing in the air with the rich scent of   
Logan's buttery mashed potatoes. My stomach once again reminds me that I skipped   
lunch today. A soft click and music filters through the air, a lite classical   
piece. I hear the sharp strike of a match followed by the sweet scent of   
vanilla. My senses are on overload. I pick up on the whir of Logan's wheels as   
he moves towards me. My heart beats faster. What happens now?  
  
I jump slightly as a new sensation overwhelms me. Something velvety, delicate,   
sweet-smelling caresses my jaw. I'm confused, but unwilling to break the silence   
by voicing it. Finally, the sensation stops as abruptly as it started, leaving   
me alive and wanting more. "Logan?" I squeak out. Was that my voice?   
  
"You can open up your eyes now."   
  
I slowly lift my lids to find Logan sitting before me, a beautiful long-stemmed   
red rose in his hand. So that was the torture device he was using. Nice.   
Definite possibilities there. I take in the rest of the room. Candles fill the   
darkness with a soft, dancing light. Roses are strewn about the room in little   
vases, a big bouquet of at least a dozen sits in the center of the table. Two   
plates steaming with steak, mashed potatoes, and green beans- my favorite meal   
as Logan knows- are placed adjacent to each other at the table, rather than   
across from each other as usual. Combined with the glittering lights from the   
city below shining like a million stars through the window and the overall   
effect is dizzying. I'm stunned.   
  
"Happy Valentine's Day, Max." Logan smiles at me, somewhat nervously, as if   
gauging my reaction to the whole scenario.   
  
"Wow. Logan. This is incredible," I finally manage to say, giving Logan a bright   
smile. No one's ever done anything this romantic for me before. Sure, Eric will   
always have a special place in my heart for that motor oil, but this is just   
unreal.   
  
"We should eat. The food is getting cold." Logan gestures to the table. I   
quickly remove my black leather coat, placing it on an empty chair. I feel a   
little self-conscious now. My red sweater is fluffier than the sweaters I   
normally wear, more feminine. My hair is up. I never put my hair up. I have a   
stuffed animal, a teddy bear, waiting to give to Logan. He's got at least three   
dozen roses scattered throughout this room and who knows what else waiting for   
later. Together, we're sitting in candlelight, on February 14th of all days,   
sharing longing looks and blatently checking each other out.   
  
What the hell is going on here?   
  
I look over at Logan and notice he's concentrating on his plate like it's the   
Rosetta Stone or something. He's freakin' out too.  
  
Are we making a huge mistake here? Can we go from being all business to hearts   
and flowers overnight?  
  
I can't help the panic that creeps up into me. This is just way too awkward.   
Logan's starting to regret it, I know. So we kissed, big deal. Sure it was   
amazing, but we've always had chemistry together. It doesn't mean we're cut   
out for a lovey dovey relationship.   
  
I feel like a bigger moron than Sketchy as I sit myself down in my chair. Logan   
hasn't moved in the past minute. It's all going to hell.   
  
'Come on, Max. Don't wig out. Look at all this trouble he went to. It's just   
Logan. The same old Logan you've been hot for since day one. Remember? No   
matter what, you can still be friends. Just think of how good of a kisser he is.   
Won't be able to get that sugar again if you wimp out now!' A little voice in my head   
nags me. I can do this.   
  
I taste a forkful of mashed potatoes and instantly remember another reason why I   
have these feelings for Logan. The boy can cook.  
  
"Logan, I must say, these potatoes are a culinary miracle. I swear I could live   
on these alone for the rest of my life." I break the silence with a good natured   
remark, lightening up the mood a little.   
  
Logan perks up too, cracking a little grin. "Good. Because there's a whole bowl   
left in the fridge."  
  
"You must've slaved all day over this meal." I add a little moan of appreciation   
as I savor a piece of steak, seasoned to perfection, in my mouth.   
  
Logan shrugs, modest as always. "Speaking of slaving, how was work today? You   
must've been hit hard considering today's holiday."  
  
We continue on in this manner for awhile. Me telling Logan stories of desperate   
boyfriends and disgruntled shopkeepers between mouthfuls of food and Logan   
detailing stories of Valentine's Days past, like when his classmate, Lizzy, sent   
him five valentines all in one year. It's comfortable, normal. Though, I can't   
help but notice the way Logan's face looks so gorgeous in the candlelight, how   
his eyes sparkle as I tell him about the day's escapades. I notice him watching   
me in the same way. I hope he thinks it's just the wine making me blush.   
  
3 3 3  
  
Sometime later, we had finished dinner, cleaned up, and relocated ourselves to   
the living room.   
  
"How 'bout I start a fresh pot of coffee?" Logan asks me. I remember my little   
gift. Now's as good of a time as any, I 'spose.   
  
"Hang here a sec." I call back to Logan as I go to grab my bag. Taking a peek,   
I feel the butterflies start to build in my stomach. I flash back to Manticore   
as I remember what Lydecker used to say about them:  
  
"Weakness! You are soldiers, warriors! Weakness will kill you! Do you feel  
that fluttering in your stomachs? That's weakness. Ignore it, get rid of it. It   
will kill you. A true solider knows no fear."  
  
I never felt them again, not until I escaped from Manticore. That day I gained   
freedom, but I also gained fear. I remember when that first social worker held   
my hand and led me to my new home. She was kind with a full face, soft blue   
eyes, and brown hair swirled up on her head. I clutched my stomach as we   
approached the house that was to be my new home. It would be the first time I   
was ever part of a true family. She smiled down at me, stroked my hair, and   
asked, "Are you feeling butterflies in your tummy? Don't worry. It's okay to be   
a little afraid."   
  
At the time, I thought she had it all wrong. But now I know better. I guess the   
woman had some wisdom to her, nevermind the fact she placed me in a home with an   
abusive bastard. It's all good now, I guess.  
  
Remembering the situation at hand, I take a deep breath and head back to the   
living room. I notice Logan's moved himself from his chair to the couch. The   
butterflies move double time. Logan's shy smile calms them a little. But still,   
this seating arrangement is asking for trouble. I eye the vacant wheelchair and   
a little voice echoes in my mind, 'But you love trouble, don't you?' I have to   
give myself a smirk for that one.  
  
"I got you a little something." I give Logan a sly look as I plop down next to   
him, tossing the bag in his lap.   
  
"I can hardly wait," Logan says dryly as he unzips the bag. I watch his reaction   
carefully as he peeks inside. He gives me no response as he pulls out the bag of   
coffee. Either he didn't see the bear yet or he's playin' me. I know Logan, ten   
to one he's playin' me.   
  
Logan inhales from the bag. "Imported hazelnut. My favorite. From the bag I can   
tell it's from the shop down the street, though I didn't know they sold such a   
large bag." He challenges me with a daring look, dangling the bag in front of   
him.  
  
Of course, I accept. I eye the bag, not very large in and of itself, about the   
size of a paper lunch sack, but the store usually sells bags a third of the   
size, if that.   
  
"Hmm. Maybe it was a holiday special." I look Logan in the eye, giving nothing   
away. Of course, he knows how I got the bag. He just laughs at me and puts it   
aside. From the look on his face I know he wouldn't have liked my gift anymore if I   
had actually bought it. "There's more." I nod towards my bag.   
  
Logan reaches in the bag, letting out a loud laugh as he pulls out the teddy   
bear declaring 'Be Mine.' I smile widely too, but change my look into a pout   
when he looks over at me, highly amused. "You don't like it?" I raise my eyes   
towards him, milkin' my expression for all it's worth.   
  
With a slight smirk on his face, Logan picks up the bear and hugs it to his   
chest. "I love it."   
  
I let myself laugh out loud, "Good. 'Cuz, I don't know," I lower my voice and   
eyes, noticing the smirk on Logan's face disappear, a seductive seriousness   
taking over. I go with the moment. Smoothing my hand down Logan's left cheek,   
feeling the way his slight beard feels soft, yet prickly, I continue, "He   
reminded me of you." I meet Logan's eyes and feel the sparks immediately begin   
to fly. Desire glazes over the blue-gray of his eyes, mine, I'm sure, reflect   
the same. We stay still for a second, lost in the moment, before Logan slowly   
leans towards me.   
  
'he's gonna kiss me,he's gonna kiss me..hesgonnakissme,' echoes over and over in   
my mind. He's so close to me now. I lean up slightly, aching for contact. I can   
feel his warm breath on my lips. 'hesgonnakissme,hesgonn--'  
  
BRRING!  
  
We both jump at the sound. Damn phone. Flustered, Logan clears his throat. "I'll   
get it," he says redundantly. It's his cellphone going off. I sigh and lean back   
on the couch. Who ever had the balls to interrupt our moment was going to get   
his ass kicked from here to Mexico.   
  
"What?" Logan barks impatiently into the phone when he finally locates it in the   
pocket of his chair. He leans back on the couch, rubbing his eyes.   
"No...Yes...Thursday?.. My contact told me next month!.. Yes, I understand...Can I   
get back to you tomorrow?...Okay, fine...Tomorrow...Yes,I will...I'll see what I   
can do."  
  
"Everything, ok?" I ask. Logan suddenly looks tired. The moment has passed.  
  
"Fine. Just have some stuff to do tomorrow."   
  
We sit in silence for the next minute, unsure where-or what- to continue. "Hey.   
I forgot. Check out my bag again."  
  
Logan gives me a questioning look, but obliges me. His smile returns when he   
retrieves the box of conversation hearts. "Where'd you get these, Max?! In third   
grade I ate so many of these I puked on the slide at recess. It was great!"  
  
I just shake my head at Logan. "Of course you did. I just thought they were   
cute. Open 'em up."  
  
Logan tears into the box. Suddenly, it's very easy for me to picture him as a   
little third grader, chompin' away at the sugar hearts.   
  
Logan shakes five of the colored candies into his palm and places the box on the   
end table. "Pick one." He smiles devilishly at me.   
  
I reach over and pluck a pink one out. "Hot Stuff," I read from the heart before   
popping it in my mouth. The sucker is as hard as a rock but once I break a tooth   
on it, it's sugary sweet cinnamon flavor fills my mouth. Logan watches my   
reaction, the same happy-little-boy look on his face. I waggle my eyebrows   
suggestively at him. He laughs.  
  
"Just Say No." His green heart reads. We both laugh.  
  
"Call Me." My white heart pleads. Logan promises he will.  
  
"4-Ever." Logan declares, chomping on his orange candy. He holds his hand out   
to me, a lone purple heart sitting in it, face down. We both look at it, a   
little scared. I pick up the candy, careful Logan doesn't see the message. After   
all, if it's something really lame, I can always make up a remark, eating the   
evidence before he knows. The little red letters on the purple heart are bolder   
than any of the other sayings on the other hearts, stressing the fate of the   
situation. I stare at the candy a little too long, a little too panicked.  
  
"Well?" Logan prompts.  
  
I look into Logan's eyes, anticipating his reaction. I raise one eyebrow in   
challenge. "Kiss Me." I turn the heart towards him, letting him see it for   
himself.   
  
Logan levels his eyes with mine, drops his voice an octave. "If you say so."   
  
Our lips collide this time, all the impatience over the first kiss catching up   
with us. I think I fling the little heart across the room in my need to be near   
Logan. I feel his arms wrap around me, one making circles on my back , the other   
playing with my hair. I grasp at Logan's head, willing his mouth closer to mine.   
Our lips dance over each others', frantic to explore. This is the kiss I've been   
waiting my life for. Passionate, loving, hot, sweet- name the adjective. I'm   
buzzin' all over.  
  
After a minute or so, Logan pulls away, gasping for air. Oops. I forgot. Normal   
people need to breathe. Logan's face is all flushed, his eyes wild and   
sparkling. His lips are a little swollen too and his hair is more disheveled   
than usual. I did that to him. My heart is going a mile a minute, I can't wait   
to feel Logan all over me again. I give him a second to catch his breath and   
just as he opens his mouth to make some smart comment about our current   
situation, I pounce.   
  
Grabbing Logan's neck, I yank him down on top of me, needing the extra contact.   
He's more than willing as he trails his lips down my neck. I'm positively   
purring. He's murmuring my name into my neck, the sound causing his throat to   
vibrate against mine, his whiskers adding even more sensation. I'm in heaven.   
  
I feel the dead weight of Logan's legs start to slide off the couch. Not wanting   
him falling off the furniture to ruin the moment, I quickly move my outside leg   
out from under Logan and use it to shift his legs directly on top of mine.   
Gravity intervenes, bringing Logan's hips closer to mine at the shift in our   
position. We both moan loudly at the contact.   
  
Just as I bring Logan's lips back to mine, his phone rings again. We stop mid-  
kiss and glare at the phone.   
  
Not waiting for Logan to grab it, I snatch it open and snap at whomever had the   
nerve to call.   
  
"This better be damn good," my voice oozes attitude. I steal a glance at Logan   
and his raised eyebrows and smirk put an immediate dent in my bitch armor. Some   
poor fool mutters about calling the wrong number and hangs up. I flip the phone   
shut, not before powering it off, though.   
  
I look up at Logan. He's looking down at me, highly amused. In my bossy tone of   
voice, I say "We really need to do something about that phone."   
  
Logan knits his eyebrows together, nodding his head, "Oh, definitely." We both   
laugh.   
  
I chance a quick look at my watch. Damn. Already midnight. As much as it hurts,   
I better start home if I don't want hassle from the sector police. Then another   
thought enters my brain, 'You could be a good girl and go home, or you could   
make it a night with this sexy rich boy piled up on you.'   
  
Logan's tracing his finger lightly down my jaw, a gesture so tender and sweet I   
realize I better call it a night. What we have deserves more respect than   
bedding each other on the first night, as good as it sounds. It just isn't the   
right time, yet.   
  
I steal a slow kiss from Logan, easing our bodies up in the process. I can tell   
Logan understands my need to take this slow, his eyes only shine affection for   
me, not hurt or anger. As I start to stand, Logan brushes a lock of hair behind   
my ear. He kisses me softly on the lips and says, "Tomorrow night? I've got a   
new recipe I want to try out."   
  
I smile brightly, winking at Logan as I slide my leather coat on. "Wouldn't miss   
it for the world."  
  
I glance back into the living room as I head for the door. Logan's sitting   
there, a grin plastered on his face, staring down at the bear I gave him.  
  
Mission V-Day is clearly a success.   
  
3 End 3  
  
  



End file.
